


125 - Spilled Coffee, Catfish Shows, & New Clothes

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Cute meet, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 16:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17429132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “I was wondering if you could write a cute story where it’s the day of a catfish concert and the reader is walking out of a coffee shop and she literally runs into van. Making him spill her coffee all over her. And you can take it from there”





	125 - Spilled Coffee, Catfish Shows, & New Clothes

"Holy mother of fuck! That is fucking hot!" you yelled. Your hands reflexively started to fan against your chest, like that would stop the burning. 

"Oh my god, I am so fucking sorry," the guy that you'd collided with in the doorway said. The girl that served you was there suddenly with a cold, wet towel. Unbuttoning your shirt down to your belly button, you pressed it against the red skin.

"Thank you," you said to her.

"No worries. We've got some burn gel in the first aid kit. Let me get it. Here, sit down," she said and pulled out one of the bar stools at the window bench seat. It was mid-morning, a little after ten. The morning rush in the café had died down, so there were only a few people in there. None of them seemed to care about your exposed bra or loud swearing. The guy stood in front of you awkwardly. You looked up at him for the first time.

"I'm so sorry. I… Can I get you another drink… or shirt… or something?" he asked.

There was a moment where you considered pretending to not know who he was. Alas, you started to talk before thinking it through.

"You're Van McCann,"

He smiled, "Yeah. Hi. Who are you?” 

"Y/N,"

"Y/N. Nice to meet ya. I'm real sorry."

You looked down. Your shirt was ruined, but it wasn't one of your good ones. The plan was to go home and change before the Catfish and the Bottlemen show that night.

"Uh, it's okay. It's mostly just the… burning…" you spoke slowly.

"I can fix that!" the girl chimed in, returning. She handed over a tube of burn gel and you carefully rubbed it into your skin. When you'd imagined meeting Van McCann, sitting near topless in a café rubbing green jelly into your chest was not how it looked. The gel did help, though. You buttoned up your shirt and the girl placed a new takeaway cup next to you.

"Thank you, so much," you said to her.

"No worries!" She was kind and her dark, dark eyes were beautiful and you loved her a little more than you should love a stranger. She left you with Van.

"Okay," you said, and slid off the stool. You picked up your bag and the drink. Van stepped back to give you room.

"Seriously… There's a Topshop down the road, yeah? Please, you gotta let me buy you a shirt," he said following you out of the café.

"It's fine. It's just a shirt. I was heading home anyway," you replied.

Changing tactics, he said, "How do you know who I am?"

You dramatically rolled your eyes and stopped to face him. "You know how I know,"

"Are you coming to the show tonight?"

"Yes,"

"Okay, so you're like a proper fan. Gotta do what I say?"

"Wow… Really?" you said with a laugh, crinkling your nose up in disbelief. He grinned.

"Gonna feel dead guilty all day,"

"So this is more about your feelings than my shirt?" you asked. He nodded. "Fine. When you put it that way,"

"Yes! Good. Come on."

Following him down the street with your arms folded across your chest, you noted that he was taller than you'd expected. His hair looked as soft as you thought it would be though. In your love for Catfish's music, you'd never formed a fangirl crush on any of them. Maybe it was a sign of you growing up, or maybe your love for the music was just beyond that. It was a rare thing, however. Usually you'd be president of a band's fanclub. You'd spend any free time making gifs and reading fanfic. How Van and the others escaped that though, was a mystery.

As soon as Van walked into Topshop a shop assistant pounced. He was all fluttering eyelashes and offers of help.

"We're after a shirt for Y/N," Van told him. "I ruined hers, see,"

"Oh," the assistant replied, clearly disappointed he'd not get to dress up Van and use him as a real life doll. "Are you a button up or a t-shirt girl?" he asked you. You shrugged.

"Just something basic is fine," you said, still uncomfortable at the idea of someone buying you anything.

"No. May as well get something nice, yeah. You can wear it tonight," Van said.

You both followed the assistant as he walked around, picking out things to try on. Van held each and provided useless but charming commentary.

"Okay, go try them on. I want a fashion show," Tyler (he'd introduced himself) ordered. Your eyes flicked to Van, who was making a face of amusement. He nodded and held out his hand to hold your coffee.

In the change room you tried on a baby pink crushed velvet shirt first. The sleeves were three-quarters long, and the cuffs were too tight around your arms. You didn't like how the hem bunched either. "No to the pink velvet!" you yelled to them.

"No! Let us see!" from Tyler. You threw your head back dramatically, then took another look at yourself in the mirror. Pulling your jeans up again to smooth out your belly, you pushed the curtain aside. Van was sitting on the rectangular ottoman. "Mmmm, you're right. Your hips are too wide for that; doesn't look balanced," Tyler evaluated.

"I like your hips," Van said quickly, eyebrows pulled in together.

"Oh, I didn't mean it as an insult, babe. You're stunning. Just not the right choice," Tyler explained. You nodded and went back in, pretending to not notice the blushing of Van's cheeks.

Next up was a plain white t-shirt with 'Females of the Future' written across the front. You liked it. Van did too, but Tyler said if you wanted something for a concert, perhaps a white shirt was a bad idea.

A black and white striped button up with embroidered flowers. Another button up, but mustard coloured and cropped. Then, a couple of graphic t-shirts you hated. You watched Van's face while Tyler fussed over you. It was as though he liked to watch you suffer. In the end, you picked a plain black t-shirt. It was cropped and had a little cat face made out of sequins where the pocket would be. Tyler cut the tag off so you could leave it on. He took your stained shirt and said he'd put it in a bag for you.

To save yourself the awkwardness of watching Van pay, you told him you'd wait outside. He nodded and smiled happily. You thanked Tyler, who seemed thrilled to get a minute alone with Van.

On the street you watched people walk in and out of stores. The city always buzzed a little louder on Fridays. You threw your empty takeaway cup in a bin, and watched Van walk out of Topshop. He handed the bag over, and you hooked it around your wrist, not bothering to look in.

"You really didn't have to do this," you told him.

"You're welcome. So, I'll see you at the show later?"

"If you spot me in a crowd of hundreds of other people," you laughed.

"Well, I'll know what you're wearing,"

"Yeah… Right."

He hugged you goodbye, and you walked off in opposite directions. An eventful morning, to say the least.

…

"Y/N! You told me you couldn't afford to go shopping and now I find this?!" your housemate called. Walking from your bedroom, down the hall and into the kitchen, you saw Ruby look through the Topshop bag.

"I already owned that. It's stained," you replied, confused. She pulled out a second bag from the Topshop one, which certainly did contain your pre-owned top. Then, she held up the Females of the Future shit and the mustard button up.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

You explained to her what had happened, and how Van had clearly decided you needed choice for the show. She laughed.

"How'd you not, like, notice the weight of the bag?"

"I don't know… What an absolute fuck, but,"

"An absolute fuck that has provided some great options. I like this one," she said about the mustard.

Ruby was the same size as you, so it fitted her too. She matched it with red lips, and you told her she looked like a hotdog. She took it as a compliment. You left the black crop top on, pretending it wasn't just in case Van could spot you in it.

The closer you got the venue, after the tube and the few blocks of walking, the more Catfish band shirts you saw around. It was a secret communication system, and whenever your eyes met theirs, you'd smile at them to say ‘me too’ and they’d smile back. 

The venue's door opened to a narrow hallway. People were walking through in both directions; heading inside to secure their spot on the floor, heading outside to have a quick smoke. The hallway was dark and lit only with cheap fairy lights staple gunned to the wall. You wondered how Occupational Health and Safety approved that was. As you looked back over your shoulder at Ruby, you rounded the corner into the main bar area. As you did, your body collided with another for the second time that day. They grabbed your shoulders to steady you, and you looked up. They were already apologising in a voice you recognised. 

"Sorry! Wasn't watching where I was headin'," Van said, then he looked up too. His face broke out into a grin and he shook his head. "What are the odds?!"

"Are you doing this on purpose?" 

He began to laugh, and two girls stopped walking to linger nearby. Van said to you, "Wait here a tick, yeah?" and went over to the girls. He signed their skin and listened as they explained they'd get the words tattooed. When they went inside, he hooked his arms around yours and lead you outside. You grabbed Ruby's hand and pulled her along behind you. The look on her face was blank, like she'd gone into shock. 

"I'm so, so sorry. Again," he said outside and around the corner. It was too close to the opening act's timeslot for anyone to still be milling about the artist entrance. He lit a cigarette and smiled. 

"Um, this is Ruby. Rubes, Van, as you know," 

"Hi," she greeted, being uncharacteristically timid. 

"Nice shirt," he joked to her. 

"Yeah, hey, about that. What the fuck?" you said, your tone half serious, half joking. Your voice knew you were experiencing an ambivalent response; one of both negative and positive emotions. You still didn't love the idea of someone buying things for you, but you also really (really) loved the idea of Van buying things for you. Also, the shirts were all so cool. 

"What?!" His voice went high and he laughed. "Not my fault you're dead cute in them all. Just how it is, innit?" You shook your head at him and threw Ruby a look when she laughed. "That one suits you too, love," he added, directed at her. She smiled, cheeks going bright red. 

"I'm not going to say thank you," you said. Van considered it and watched you lean up against the wall next to him. 

"She always this rude?" he asked Ruby. 

"Only when she's masking real emotion," she replied. You shot her another look. Van chuckled. 

"What's the real emotion, then?" he inquired, looking at you with amusement. 

"Hate," you answered quickly. He choked as he inhaled and laughed. "And contempt," you added deadpan. 

"But you love my band," 

"Yeah. Your band. Not you," you said. The sharpness of your tone threatened to ruin the fun. Maybe he'd be hurt, but when he laughed again it was clear he liked the game. 

"Don't think I make a good front man?" 

"Not at all. You're mediocre, at best. Another pasty white boy, you know?" you said, and held out your hand for his smoke. He handed it over with a smirk.

"Also, there was that time you wore that really fucking ugly hat," Ruby added. You cackled. 

"What hat?!" Van asked desperately as you gave him back the smoke and fell into Ruby's arms with laughter. You tried to pull yourself together, but she got her phone out and Googled for the image. When she found it and you had to see it again, a new wave of hysterics came over you. She held it up to Van. "Thought I looked well fucking hip in that," he said, then pouted. The smoke was over and he twisted it into the wall before throwing the butt into a nearby bin. "So if I'm so shit at my job, and don't got a face for singing, why are you standing out here in a dirty fuckin' alley with me, then?" 

You and Ruby stopped laughing and shared a look. 

"Have we hurt your feelings?" you teased, stepping closer to him. 

"Nothin' a good hug can't fix," he replied, his voice dropping lower. His arms were around your waist before you could stop him, and his head came to rest on your shoulder.

You wrapped your arms around him and laughed, before settling into a strange, silent moment with him. 

The artist entrance door swung open, and Larry Lau's headbanned head popped out. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, Van. Can't go missin' before a set," he said walking over. Van didn't let you go.

"Told you I was goin' for a smoke," 

"Sure you did, mate," 

"Larry, this is Y/N. She's the one I spilled coffee over before. And that one is Ruby," 

"Hey… Hey…" he greeted. "Are you…?"

"Yeah," Van replied. He started to walk backwards, dragging you along with him.

"What are you doing?" you asked, squirming in his arms.

"Going inside,"

"Right. But-"

"Larry, buddy, can you grab that one and bring her too?" Van said, cutting you off. You look back and watched Larry and Ruby grin at each other, and follow behind. "I'm kinda glad I bumped into you this morning," Van whispered, still awkwardly walking mid-hug.

"Mmmmm… I am not. My chest still hurts,"

"Want me to kiss it better?"

You laughed out loud at his confidence, and cheese. "No, thanks,"

"Sure? Nothing a good snog can't fix!"

You pushed him off you, and he finally let your bodies part. Quickly though, he took your hand and pulled you through the door, into the backstage area. His hand was warm, and he bounced through the space like a puppy on a lead, just waiting to be released. Over your shoulder, you checked that Ruby was still with you. She gave you a look, and you knew what she was feeling. Larry shrugged at you, then you refocused your attention on Van, to where it would remain all night and until the very early hours of the next morning when you were both due for another round at the cafe.


End file.
